MONSTERNEXTDOOR, Chapter 02: Humans communicate in many ways, but he and I communicate through the balcony.
I accidentally fell asleep around six because my eyes were hurting, only to wake up past nine in the evening due to the clattering noise. My legs dropped from the bed to the carpet, and I walked over to squat in front of Shy’s fish tank, his home. Shy was climbing over the rocks, making the clattering noise.
Why name him Shy, my mother asked when she gave me the turtle.
Because Shy is like me, shy, but if push comes to shove, he’ll bite hard.
I brushed my teeth, washed my face, and applied cream, ready to go back to sleep, but then I remembered what the creature next door said about talking later in the dark.
Why would he want to talk when we’ve been living here just fine on our own?
Speaking of which, it’s unusually quiet next door today. Is he starting to feel guilty about disturbing others with his noise? And when he said he’d come to talk, was he serious or joking?
Curiosity got the better of me, so I slowly opened the glass door and stepped out onto the balcony.
“Ah, you’re not asleep yet?” The deep voice greeted me right away, as if he was waiting.
“I was asleep.”
“Then why are you awake?” My cat woke me up.
I didn’t respond to him; the air was unusually cold tonight, prompting me to wrap myself up and sit on the large cushion I left outside. I looked at the pitch-black sky devoid of stars, the cool breeze passing my face today carried a faint scent of someone’s perfume.
Did Godzilla spray on cologne?
“Forgot to introduce myself earlier.”
“Your name is Godt.”
“How did you know?” His voice sounded surprised mixed with joy.
“Your noise is that loud.”
He probably doesn’t realize how loud his friends shout his name, you can probably hear it even on the first floor, yelling “Godt” this, “Godt” that, like “Damn Godt,” “Shit Godt,” “Buffalo Godt.”
“Still not over it, huh?”
“I’m over it. But if it’s loud again, I’ll get angry again.”
“I’ll try not to do it again.”
But he didn’t say he wouldn’t do it again.
Our conversation took place between two balconies separated by a wall. We couldn’t lean out to see each other. It’s kind of funny that I never thought to get to know the neighbor since moving in, not until the room next door changed owners. Even though for a whole month the new owner was as loud as if Godzilla was attacking the city, I never thought to say anything to him. I never knocked on his door to scold him, never yelled at him, just quietly endured in my own world.
Today, I don’t even know why we’re talking.
“Talk to me a bit.”
He’s made a big mistake by asking me to start a conversation. I sat there, furrowing my brows at the sky for a minute, then decided:
“I’m going to sleep.”
“Diew, you can ask about my name.” But the creature next door seemed unwilling to let me off easily.
I’m a shy creature who’s great at creating awkward silences. I can easily turn a funny conversation into an awkward one. If we were face to face, this conversation would probably end with a grunt and me retreating inside.
But because I can’t see his face, it’s easier to talk.
“Is Godt short for ‘God’?”
“Yes, it means ‘God’.”
“I thought it was Godzilla.”
“Hey hey, that’s not nice to say, kiddo. What year are you in?”
“First year.”
“I’m in my third year. I’m your senior, how can you call me
Godzilla?”
“You’re loud, you like to throw things around and make a racket.” After I said that, he went quiet for a moment before knocking on the balcony again, sounding quite happy with the knocking, not realizing how annoying it was.
“When friends come over, it gets loud like that.”
Uh-huh. I’m aware, the more friends, the louder it gets.
“But when there are no friends, it gets lonely, and if I only invite one, the others get upset.”
“So that’s why you’re lonely and come to talk to me then?” I asked softly, playing with my phone while looking around.
“Yes. You have to take responsibility because I don’t have friends to talk to.”
And why should I be responsible when you can’t tell your friends to keep it down yourself?
Do they sell megaphones at your house?
I didn’t say that out loud, just thought it, while looking at the orange streetlights still shining brightly.
“Why have I never seen you?” His voice came faintly.
“I’ve never seen you either.”
“What time do you leave for classes?”
“I wake up very early and come back in the afternoon. My faculty has different schedules from the norm.”
“What faculty are you in?”
“International Studies.”
He made a sound of understanding, carried away by the breeze, as if he understood well that my faculty is quite independent from the university, allowing me to live comfortably on my own.
“I just don’t want to meet anyone.”
“Not even me?”
“No, even if you try to wait for me, I won’t talk.”
“Brutal as always.”
“I like being alone, actually, I’m not good at talking, but having someone to chat with before sleep is nice.”
For me, it’s not about feeling lonely. Having someone to talk to before bed is just another kind of nice. I actually enjoy it when someone sits and listens to me complain.
“But if we chat on the balcony, can we talk every day?”
“Yes. I’m always in my room like a ghost guarding a shrine.”
He fell silent again, probably surprised that I said I’m a ghost. He himself isn’t sure if I really exist or if I’m just a lingering spirit that died in the room and doesn’t want to leave.
Our conversations, we don’t see each other’s faces or expressions, just hear each other’s voices. It makes me feel good not having to expect anything from those expressions or even from the facial expressions that might sour if I say something not to their liking.
Even better when there’s no expectation of how he feels about me.
He’s just the creature next door, the noisy Godzilla.
“Diew.”
“Huh.”
“Do you like Pocky?” This time he spoke with a teasing tone. If he means the Pocky he gave me…
“I do. I like strawberries.”
“Really?” His tone changed to one of surprise.
“By coincidence?”
“I got it from a junior, but I don’t like strawberries. I just like things that are pink.”
So he gave it to me because he didn’t eat it, how thoughtful.
“Did this come from a junior? Do you have someone courting you?” I wouldn’t be too surprised if he said he had admirers; judging by his deep, smooth voice, his friends who often gather at his room, he must be the extrovert type, someone who thrives on social interaction. Plus, he’s really good at getting close to people. He’s even managed to get me, who’s usually too shy to talk to anyone, to sit and chat with him.
He’s got excellent people skills.
“Would you believe me if I told you I’m very handsome?”
And incredibly self-absorbed too.
“I wouldn’t believe you if you said that yourself.”
The creature next door chuckled softly.
The cool breeze made me feel sleepy again, prompting a yawn, loud enough for the other person to hear.
“Go to sleep, you have to wake up early, right?”
“Uh-huh.”
I stood up, stretching out the stiffness from my body. Since I wake up early every day, I don’t like staying up late. I was about to step back into my room when I heard the clattering noise from the next door’s balcony again.
I really want to tell him how much I hate that balcony knocking sound.
“Sweet dreams, Diew.”
The words from my neighbor made me pause, and I muttered a soft response.
“I won’t be dreaming of you, though.”
Tuesday morning was still bright and clear. I left my room early. Even though I dreamt last night that Godzilla was rampaging through Thailand, that definitely wouldn’t happen because Godzilla doesn’t have the power of a politician.
When I opened the door to leave my room, I found another strange thing hanging there.
A pink box of Pocky in a bag with a pink Post-it from my neighbor.
“Tonight I have to bring a friend over, my roommate went home, and he’s scared of ghosts, so he’s coming to stay with me.”
So now he has to ask for my permission?
I shook my head slightly. If it’s just one friend, it should be okay; they probably won’t make too much noise. But if it’s several, it’ll be worse than a monk’s ordination ceremony. I’d have to sleep with pillows over my ears again, and his apologies would become void.
I will not go out to talk to him, clearly indicating that I find him annoying. Besides lacking consideration, he doesn’t seem to think for himself. I didn’t respond to that Post-it, just crumpled it and threw it in the trash as usual, then went downstairs from the dorm to catch a taxi to university.
This morning’s class was nothing more than quiet experiments with my group. After the morning class, I went to eat at the same spot in the cafeteria, but today I switched from chicken with rice to fried rice with egg, not forgetting my favorite strawberry yogurt drink.
The same routine cycle repeated. After eating, I cleared my tray, tossed my empty cup into the bin, and walked out of the cafeteria. Then I stood waiting for the elevator to go back up to continue working. My ears caught a bit of chatter from behind, which sounded like students from another department eating at this building, which is quite normal.
I didn’t pay much attention. I was scrolling through Twitter, but the conversation from behind made my finger pause on the timeline.
“Recently, they said it was Phii Godt, right?”
“Isn’t he the tall one? I met him during orientation, he’s very tall.”
“Yeah, how tall is he?”
“Over 180 cm, I guess.”
“And what are they going to do with him?”
“They said he’s going to play drums, the old drummer broke his arm.”
“Super unlucky.”
Then laughter faded away, along with a question popping up in my head.
Godt… it couldn’t possibly be Godzilla from next door, could it?
Because the creature next door, he’s more of a daily drinker, not someone into drumming, that’s out of the question.
I shook my head to rid myself of these nonsensical thoughts, went to my afternoon class, then spent time in the library, living my life by the book, and returned to the dorm in the evening.
I closed the door to my room, placing the large thesis book on the table, changed clothes in the bathroom, and came out to open the fridge for a cold drink. My eyes fell on the massive book that could flatten a Chihuahua to the ground. Carrying that thesis back was the biggest mistake of my life.
I knew I wouldn’t read it, but when the professor said it would be on the exam, I dashed to the library first thing, fearing someone else would take it.
The weather was hot and stifling this evening. I shook my T-shirt periodically to cool off, placed my hand under the air conditioner’s flow, eventually adjusting the temperature down to twenty-three degrees Celsius.
“I’m back, Shy.”
I sat down to play with my little green turtle for a while, and then turned to my books until it got dark.
After ten in the evening, the usual time, the sound of voices started up next door, accompanied by the sound of keys and the door opening. I paused from playing with my pencil, straining to listen to the conversation of the creature next door who was scolding his friend outside the room.
Loud again.
“Grown up and still scared of ghosts.”
“I really can’t stay there, Godt. You know Beert listens to ‘The Shock’ every night.”
“And what the hell do you listen to?”
“Uh, if I have ears, I have to listen, right?”
“Take your ears to the field, your eyes to the farm. Never heard that?”
“Don’t mess with people like that.”
“Why? Will they fall in love with me?”
“They’ll think you’re crazy!”
“Crazy? A crazy person this good-looking?”
The voices of the two gradually quieted down as they went inside the room. The dorm walls aren’t that thin, but if you shout or make too much noise, it carries through. Like when he brings friends over to watch football, when he’s arguing with friends, when he’s drunk and knocking on bottles while singing children’s songs, or when he’s moving furniture around making a racket.
Maybe it’s because I prefer the quiet. I hear these sounds clearly, especially since my room is at the end, and there’s no noise from other rooms to muffle it.
I turned back to my chemistry notes, scribbling for a while until I heard the clattering at the balcony. My eyebrows furrowed automatically, and the continuous loud knocking made me even more annoyed.
Knocking like that, he really thinks I’m a dog, doesn’t he?
Someone like him could never be a drummer, just a nuisance!
Bang bang
Seeing that I wasn’t coming out to talk, he knocked louder. I sighed softly and walked over to open the glass door, shaking my hands by my sides in annoyance. He immediately greeted me.
“Diew, you aren’t answering me!”
“If you knock like this again, I won’t open the door to talk anymore.”
We’ve only known each other for a brief moment. I can cut ties easier than cutting paper if you keep being this annoying!
“But you aren’t answering me.”
“What do you want me to answer?”
“The Post-it.”
“Whatever you do is your business, just don’t be loud.”
I walked back into my room and slid the door shut because today I didn’t feel like talking to him. Of course, he has friends to talk to now. I probably wasn’t needed that much today. I slumped back into my chair.
This time, my focus on the chemistry sheet was completely scattered.
The noisy Godzilla.
Annoying!
Instead, I ended up scrolling through Twitter. Today’s hot topics on Twitter were still about politics as usual, with some celebrity gossip, both Thai and international. I browsed through movie trailers for a horror film coming out soon because it particularly interested me.
Knock, knock
The sound of knocking made me jump, looking at the shadow of someone standing outside my door. Normally, no one ever knocks on my door because I have no friends, so there are only two people who could knock:
One, the dorm staff.
Two, the creature from next door.
The third would be some non-human energy.
I stared at the shadow for a while, hearing sounds as if he was doing something by the door, before that dark shadow walked away with the sound of his door closing next door.
Clearly,
The noisy Godzilla.
Once I was sure he wasn’t in front of my door, I slid off the bed, ran to the door, and opened it.
As expected, a pink Post-it was stuck on the door.
I pulled it out to read the message he’d sent.
‘You don’t have to reply to my Post-its, but could you not shut the door in my face?’
And then I learned something else about him:
The creature next door is incredibly sensitive.
His message made me feel guilty for slamming the door in his face, so I gently closed my room door, walked back inside, and instead of crumpling the Post-it, I placed the pink note on my study table and opened the balcony glass door again.
“Are you mad at me?”
“I don’t like you knocking on the balcony; it makes me feel like I’m a dog.”
“But you don’t reply to me, so I don’t know what to do.”
“But you have a friend staying over tonight.”
“He’s asleep. He hasn’t slept for two full days because he’s terrified of ghosts.”
I went silent. I didn’t respond, just slumped onto my turtle pillow and sighed for the hundredth time.
“Are you addicted to me? If you feel you must come and talk to me every day, I don’t want you to do that.”
“Why?”
“I like being alone. One day, I’ll stop talking to you.”
“Diew.”
“I don’t want you to feel hurt later if one day I ignore you.”
“Diew,” he called my name twice in a row, making me furrow my brows even more.
“What?”
“I didn’t ask you.”
I rolled my eyes at the wall, my voice echoing towards him.
“Phii Godt!”
“I just wanted to know how to call for your attention.”
I get headaches from this guy, he doesn’t listen to a word I say, as if it’s not something he’s interested in, he just lets it go in one ear and out the other. It’s good we’re not talking face-to-face. Otherwise, I would’ve kicked him away like a useless, annoying cockroach.
As for what he asked, I’m not sure what to do myself, but I don’t like the clanging noise when he knocks on the balcony.
Ding-ding
Suddenly, a pleasant sound came from the balcony next door. It wasn’t the clanging of rusted metal, but a clear, bell-like sound of Wan. I moved from sitting to leaning on the balcony, listening closely to that sound.
“A bell?”
“A Japanese glass wind chime, I bought it because I thought it looked nice.”
“What does it look like?”
“As handsome as me.”
Ew, I almost threw up.
“Do you like this sound?” I gave a small smile and nodded, even though he couldn’t see.
“It’s nice.”
“Calling like this won’t make you angry, right?”
“No.”
“Who are you talking to, Godt?” His friend’s voice shouted from inside the room. The creature next door turned and yelled back at his friend with the speed of light, as if cursing friends was a normal thing for him.
“Asshole, I’m talking to a tree spirit, want to come out and talk too?”
“Fuck you, Godt, am I right to come and sleep with you!” “You don’t have to sleep here, the nun next door is annoyed.”
Nun… he compares me to a nun?
“I’m going to sleep.”
“Wait a bit, Diew.”
I closed the glass door and flopped onto my bed. I tried to close my eyes to sleep, but after a while, I heard the chime sound from the balcony. But he probably wasn’t calling me because I heard the sound of his glass door closing next door. He must have hung it on the balcony, because it was ringing beautifully throughout the night.
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